Revenge of the Iron-Blooded Sword Hound - Chapter 386

Episode 386 The New Wave’s Bitten Dog (2)

Named ‘Garm Nord’. rank ensign. A junior guard in the suppression team of the New Wave.

A 21-year-old man with a timid personality, always withdrawn posture, dark expression, shaggy, uncut hair, and large burn marks on his face.

This was information about the ‘new identity’ that Bikir had observed over the past two years.

Bikir did not escape.

To be precise, after pretending to escape, he returned to Nouvelle Vague with his back to the fainting BDSM.

It is because not only can you not avoid the pursuit team by stealing the balloon eel anyway, but there is still work to be done in the prison.

‘I have to activate Poseidon.’

There was nothing to take.

After satisfying certain conditions and starting Poseidon, everything to be done here in New Wave is over.

‘…Honestly, if I finish this job well, it won’t be too bad if I die here.’

Simply stopping the monsoon season will save more than half of humanity.

What happens after that is up to the surviving human race.

But Bikir wanted to finish the job perfectly.

If you can take care of your own life as well, wouldn’t it be a business that leaves much to be desired?

at that time.

Tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

was heard.

half past three in the morning.

Guards wake up 30 minutes earlier than prisoners who wake up at 4:00.

Gareum or Bikir got up in his room that was about a pyong in size.

The shower room is a stone chamber large enough to fill two people.

Bikir turned on the rusty faucet and rinsed her face and body with cold running water.

Of course, the water was seawater, so even if you rub the soap, there was almost no foam.

Even after washing, it still leaves a sticky feeling on the skin.

I looked in the mirror and saw dirty burn marks under the wet hair.

Vikir was able to erase and recreate scars with the power of the basilisk.

The voice could also be altered as much as possible by swallowing hot charcoal and burning the vocal chords.

Dekaravia on Bikir’s chest said as if tired.

[human. Aren’t you sick? That’s awful!]

“I entered the Iron Maiden and was thrown 10,000 meters under the sea, crossing a sharp bridge, fighting leeches, enduring a sulfur shower, and working mines under a burnt-hot volcano, and that’s about it.”

Anyway, the first jailbreak operation was successful.

The Night Hound was presumed dead and given the status of a jailer.

It was a good thing because it was much more advantageous to be a jailer to keep track of Poseidon’s movements.

Bikir glanced away as he prepared for the roll call.

On the desk and bed, notebooks the size of palms were piled up.

It was a diary that Gareum kept every day while he was alive.

With hundreds of these diaries piled up in a cramped room, the space is cramped.

But Bikir did not throw them away.

Rather, I treated it like a treasure and read and memorized the letters on the wet and smeared paper one by one.

‘It’s good to know the daily life of the lower guards.’

In Gareum’s diary, the lives and joys and sorrows of low-level guards living together in close-to-close rooms of one pyeong were revealed.

There was still a little time left before the morning roll call even after the sound of the hornet, so I finished reading the diary.

Even though I stayed up all morning yesterday to read it, there were still quite a few diaries left.

Bikir decided to grasp only the essential information, excluding useless chatter.

The structure and system of Nouvelle Vague Information on the characters who appear in Gareum’s daily life and other things to be aware of… Other than that, the vast majority of the

details and personal contents that reveal the thoughts, beliefs and humanity of a person called Gareum. was

Bikir did not consider Garreum’s personal records unnecessary, but he could not help but read a single line through the vast volume.

And in the process, I came to understand his humanity to some extent.

“…It’s fortunate that he’s a person who doesn’t have many close friends around him.”

Gareum had an extremely narrow human relationship.

However, I was able to observe others in a neutral and objective way, and those perspectives are fully incorporated into my diary.

There were surprisingly many similarities between New Wave through the eyes of a prisoner and New Wave through the eyes of a jailer.

For example, in most of Gareum’s diaries, the very last line was recorded as ‘I want to leave this place’.

It was like watching a prisoner’s notes.

“…Come to think of it, the places where the guards and prisoners live are similar.”

Bikir looked inside the cramped stone chamber.

It is literally a coffin with no windows.

Only there were no handcuffs and bars, but there was no big difference from the cells where prisoners lived.

……No, even the guards had handcuffs and bars.

“Morning roll call! Everyone come out!”

It was an insanely tight roll call and timetable.

It traps and manipulates the guards like invisible bars.

The guards who control and manage the prisoners are also controlled and directed by the system.

Bikir got up and closed Gareum’s diary.

……No, I tried to cover it up.

“hmm?”

Bikir suddenly looked at the next page of the page he was looking at.

From there, things that weren’t there before were peeked out.

Until then, Gareum had been writing her diary in a calm and dry handwriting, even making herself the other.

However, starting from this page now, there are slightly different contents after that.

It was about Kirko.

How strong, how strong, how great, how admirable, and how pretty is the motive from the room across the room with the name ‘Kirko Grim’.

From a certain page in Gareum’s diary, it was full of stories about Kirko.

Even the sketches are quite well drawn.

The story of how she won first place in the end-of-month evaluation.

The story of her simple suppression of a riot by prisoners.

The story of how she got promoted first among her classmates.

The story of how she won first place in a swordsmanship competition.

.

.

And the last record of the diary, which was always the same, had changed a little.

The phrase ‘I want to leave this place’ was followed by the phrase ‘with that child’.

– I want to show him the outside world.

-If only I could show you the blue sky of the place where I was born and the wild animals playing in the fields of the saltless lake…

Bikir closed the diary at this point.

Suddenly, something I had said a while ago came to mind.

‘Was it about 20 years ago? Maybe there was an incident where a prisoner forcibly insulted a guard? Because of that, the guards of New Wave are particularly sensitive to negative incidents.’

‘Kkeuk-kkeuk-kkeuk- I heard that a child was born that was like a by-product of that unsavory process.’

‘The four frog-like bitches who were born and raised in a well have never seen the outside world, have they? Hey, what qualifications does a bitch born of rape have to step on the ground? He’s a useless human, so he’s stuck in the deep sea like this!’

It was also mentioned in the record of Gareum.

Kirko is a child born and raised in New Wave. A girl who doesn’t know the ground.

“Hmm. Unrequited love? Or longing? I don’t know how kids this age feel.”

Bikir muttered quietly to himself.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time at the Colosseo Academy, but I still have a hard time understanding the teen sensibility of young children.

Only this one thing was known.

Gareum, who wrote this diary, and Kirko, a girl who appears in this diary, are all twenty-one years old.

What would it have been like if they had attended the Colosseo Academy on the ground and not here in Newbaug?

Since Kirko is a talented girl, she may have been the head of the Cold Weapons Donation Department. No, he could have gone beyond that and become the student council president.

For Bikir, at first glance, her talent and willingness to develop her potential were more than Tudor, Bianca Sinclair, and Dolores.

“…But the reality is harsh.”

Not everyone can live beautifully like a flower.

If there is an upper, there is a lower.

It was a fact that could be known even if one did not have to go through the age of destruction.

Bikir covered the diary completely and turned around.

Then, he left the cramped stone chamber and closed the soundproof door.

Kiki- Tung!

Before long, a narrow and smelly hallway comes into view.

Damp, damp sphagnum moss proliferated everywhere the eye could see.

The salty moisture that sticks to the skin of sea mold that gives off a musty smell.

Smoke from cheap cigarettes hung above the salty, dripping ceiling.

The narrow storage room in the corner of the hallway always smelled rotting.

When I glanced at the side door that was slightly open, I saw my brother-in-law lying on the bed, reading an old pornographic magazine.

(Since it was a magazine published more than 60 years ago, it was assumed that the model on the page was already dead.)

Eventually, it was roll call time.

The lower guards all came out wide-eyed and lined up in two lines facing each other in the hallway.

While sharing a room, there was no distinction between men and women.

Because of the New Wave guideline that gender is divided into three categories, men and women, all of these people here are treated as the same sex.

at that time.

“……!”

Among the lower guards with rotten fish eyes, Bikir took notice of one person with particularly bright eyes.

She was Kirko.

Kirko lived in a room one square diagonally away from Gareum’s room.

‘It feels strange to see it in real life after seeing it only as a record.’

When Bikir was staring at Kirko.

…shit!

Someone hit Bikir hard on the back of the head.

“……?”

When Bikir turns around, he sees the next room and the guards across from him giggling.

“Hey stupid Gareum! Have you been spying on Kirko today? You gloomy perverted bastard. You should know the subject.”

“Tweak your dressing up a bit. Re-tighten your legs. It’s not like you’re showing off your slutty uniform. Do you want to look down on the prisoners?”

“In the meantime, why did you attach the old name tag again? Who took it off?”

“As expected, it’s like a ‘dog that ate rain’. From morning.”

Also known as ‘Stupid Gareum’ or ‘Fucked Dog’. That was the nickname that always followed Gareum.

Bikir, who had seen Gareum’s diary, was of course well aware of this fact.

‘Human beings are similar everywhere.’

It was the same in the military before the regression and also in the Colosseo Academy after the regression.

Humans always bully those weaker than themselves, and when such bullying within an organization becomes a collective phenomenon, it rather contributes to strengthening the organization.

So even when classmates harassed Gareum, seniors and superiors tolerated it.

It was because it was a business that would be left if the other guards could build solidarity by sacrificing one Gareum.

That’s why the lower guards are giggling and insulting Garreum casually today.

“Today is still a bit free because of yesterday’s crazy work.”

“Because I’m free, should I bully and play with stupid Gareum?”

“Hey, you son of a bitch. Why didn’t you see you during the roll call last night? You weren’t on duty. Were you really in distress?”

“You know that not being able to attend roll call is a violation of military law, right? Do you know if you can meet the ‘black tongue’ then?”

Then, one of the guys who bullied Bikir met Kirko’s eyes,

who was looking this way. I giggled and shouted,

“Hey! Kirko! Aren’t you coming to rescue your boyfriend? You guys are siblings!”

Then, all eyes turned to Kirko and Gareum.

Kirko’s eyebrows furrowed.

“…Crazy bastards.

” Only the

ridiculous

ridiculous

sculpture was echoed.

At

that time

. One of the guards who was standing at the ward jumped in and shouted,

“Po riot! It’s a riot! A riot broke out in the Level 1 area! Suppression team urgently deployed!”